Waiting
by Aoitori
Summary: Semi-linear variations on the titled theme. Chapter 4: A long day out with Grace leads to an amusing car ride home.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Hawaii Five 0, or any of the characters, places, or events contained therein. And, as always, the world is a better place for it!

Note: I have to admit: I've been absolutely loving this fandom (and by "loving" I mean stalking it obsessively since it's beginning) and I finally couldn't resist making a humble contribution of my own. This random ficlet is not set at any specific time in the series and may or may not connect to other fictional events that I may or may not write. It was inspired by moments written by several other authors, so if this feels very familiar, arigatougozaimasu (thank you very much) for the idea. Yoroshikuonegaishimasu!

* * *

Waiting

The three sat side by side on the uncomfortable bench in uncomfortable silence.

There had been tears when Rachel had shown up with Grace, but that had been some time ago and the waiting game was a somber affair, not a tearful one, even for the eight-year-old. Her hands were clasped tightly together and her round eyes stared unblinking at the door leading to the ICU.

Rachel's phone thrummed and she had it at her ear in less than a second.

"Stan!" she exclaimed, standing up and turning away from the other two, "I've been trying to get a hold of you!" She listened for a moment, "More like inevitable!" Her tone was accusatory, "I mean, really, the things this family has been put through..." She glanced down at the other two, who were no doubt hearing but wishing to ignore her conversation.

She pointed at McGarrett, who looked up at her blankly, "Can you keep an eye on her?" she asked in a harsh whisper, pointing over at Grace sitting next to him. He nodded automatically and she moved off down the hall to a different lounge area.

McGarrett stared straight ahead and his eyes widened slightly as he was hit with the realization that he had been left fully in charge of a kid, an understandably distressed kid, and he had no idea what to do about it. He hadn't had charge of an eight-year-old since...well since his sister was eight, and that was a very long time ago. Sure he'd hit it off just fine with Grace in the past, but then he'd always been with the kid-whisperer Kono and the charming "Uncle Chin," not flying solo and certainly not partially responsible for the life-and-death battle her father was fighting behind the closed doors in front of them.

He turned slowly, just fractionally, to look at her.

Red-rimmed eyes, white knuckles, pristine school outfit. _Gah, what could he say to her?_

He turned back to the door.

Then his peripheral vision picked up a small movement next to him.

She, in turn, had moved to look him over.

Then she too returned to her silent vigil.

"You're worried about your dad, huh." He said to the door. _Arg! What was that? Calling attention to her grief?_ He wanted to punch himself in the face.

Grace took a beat. "Mom is," she said coolly, though the pain in her voice gave it a bit of an edge, "She always talks a lot when she's worried."

The commander nodded thoughtfully. _That made sense._ "You know, I don't think you need to worry- Your dad is a really tough guy. The doctors said he's got a fighting chance and, you know him, he never backs down from a fight." He genuinely hoped that sounded more encouraging to her than it did to him.

Grace turned toward him this time with a frown and their eyes locked. "Danno says that sometimes bad things happen to good people, even the ones who are tough. And he says that he doesn't want me to worry when bad things happen, 'cause when I get worried it makes him really sad."

McGarrett couldn't help but smile at the strength of her conviction, and at the memory it brought back.

"You know," he said, "My dad was a cop too, just like your Danno."

She cocked her head at him, clearly not expecting this.

"He used to say almost the same thing. 'Stevie' he'd say," and McGarrett imitated his father's gruff voice, "'Don't you worry son, even if something happens to me. Worrying never did you any good, and it never did _me_ any good.'" He chuckled at the memory.

"Did that help?" She asked.

He frowned, not sure what she meant.

"Did it help you stop worrying?"

He gave a short laugh and shook his head. "No, not really." He answered truthfully.

She nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer she expected, and he looked away, willing her not to ask the next question.

"What happened to your dad?" She said.

His stomach tightened.

_There it was._

He didn't want to tell her, both for her sake, and for his. But she was every bit her father's child: she would know it if he lied.

He turned to face her fully. "He died." McGarrett confessed.

He saw the little girl's eyebrows draw together in concern.

"But," he pointed a finger up to interject,"He didn't die because of his job, and he lived a very long, full life, just like your dad will."

She scrutinized his face for a moment, as if trying to weigh the truth of his words. "Do you miss him?" she asked carefully.

McGarrett let out a breath, closed his eyes with a frown and leaned back against the wall. "Yeah..." his voice broke just a little bit. "Yeah, I really do."

He could feel her eyes still on him.

"You know what?" She asked in a strange tone.

He felt little fingers worming their way into the tight fist of his hand.

"What?" He asked, taking the tiny hand in his.

"I think I am a little worried about Danno." She admitted, and then slowly leaned to the side until she was pressed against him, head against his shoulder.

He slouched down a bit so he could lean his head gently on hers.

"Yeah, kiddo," he said quietly. "Me too."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I _still_ do not own Hawaii Five-0, or any of the characters, places, or events contained therein. Which, as we all know, is clearly for the best.

Note: Well, I wasn't actually sure if and/or how I was going to continue this little bit of heart-warming fluff, but, as a general rule, if I get more than ten responses to a chapter of something I'm writing, and there is anything more left to be written, I will do my best to follow up with another chapter. As you can see, the reviews came in, and so I kept writing. In accordance with the title, I'm continuing on the theme of "waiting." There _are_ other angles from which I'm considering approaching that idea, so if you'd like to read more, just drop me a line! Thanks for your thoughtful reviews so far! Yoroshikuonegaishimasu!

* * *

Waiting

The battle was _not _going well. Lt. Commander Steve McGarrett was suffering defeat after agonizing defeat and he was beginning to despair of any hope of victory.

"War!" his opponent shouted in delight when they put down matching cards, and then she cringed and looked with trepidation toward the door. A particularly nasty nurse had already stopped in once to warn them not to make a ruckus.

McGarrett stifled a half-grin at her antics, but the little girl caught it.

"It's not funny!" she intoned in a loud whisper. "We could get kicked out!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh I don't think so. Visiting hours are visiting hours and not even _nurse Ratched_ over there is gonna get rid of us until our time is up!" He ventured a conspiratorial grin but then frowned when he saw her wide eyes staring up and to his right. His eyes mirrored hers. He flicked a finger up, pointing over his right shoulder._ Is she...? _he mouthed. Grace nodded solemnly.

He spun around with his best apologetic smile. "I'm sorry Nurse..." he looked desperately for her nametag.

"Ratched?" deadpanned the middle-aged woman who was standing there with crossed arms and a scathing scowl.

"Fitz!" he found it a moment too late. "Nurse Fitz, I'm..." he looked at the little girl across from him who was staring very hard at her own lap doing an admirable job of looking ashamed, "_we're_ very sorry. We'll keep it down from now on, I promise."

The irritated nurse sniffed. "See that you do." She intoned imperiously. Then she turned on her heel and left as quickly as she'd come.

After a moment McGarrett turned back to Grace and blew an exaggerated sigh of relief for the little girl's benefit.

Well, _mostly _for her benefit.

The arrangement he'd made with Rachel to spend visiting hours in Danny's recovery room with Grace was_ not_ something he wanted to jeopardize, not for a second.

It gave McGarrett welcome relief from the guilt and regret, the mental playback of the event that put his partner here in the first place, and the self-doubt that pounded him with questions about what he could've (should've?) done differently. Alone, he was tormented; with Grace present he found distraction, and the comforting knowledge that he was able to do something for Danny. He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that anything he did for his partner's daughter he did for the man himself.

For Grace, well, it gave her the chance simply to be there. While Rachel was willing to stop in with her for the occasional visit, she couldn't bring herself to stay in that room for longer than a few minutes. The pain and anxiety, the very things that had driven her and Danny apart were real and present for her in that room. With Steve there she could retreat to comforting conversations with Stan, content in the knowledge that no power on earth could harm her little girl with the overprotective SEAL in the room.

Grace broke into giggles at McGarrett's expression of relief and he gave her a fake frown.

"You know, a little more warning would've been nice," he chided.

This only succeeded in prolonging her laughter, and before its volume could cause them more trouble, he handed her the pillow that they had earlier designated 'the laughing pillow'. She buried her face in it and let out the rest of her giggles as he sat back and shook his head in wonderment. These Willamses certainly were an expressive bunch.

Finally she looked up from the pillow with a grin, "It's just like Danno says." She fought back another giggle. "You make reeeeeally funny faces!" The look of shock that spread over Steve's features sent her right back into the pillow. He shook it off and turned to glare at his unconscious partner. "_Traitor." _he whispered at the detective.

The laughter subsided again and McGarrett tapped their makeshift table. "Hey, weren't we in the middle of a _war_?" he asked, hoping to keep her away from the subject of his 'faces.'

"Uh _huh_." She said, nodding slowly, as if to a child younger than herself. "And I already _went_. I'm waiting on _you_." She imitated his tap, indicating the cards she'd already laid down.

After several uneventful but certainly awkward visiting rounds together with a still-unconscious Danny, they had decided that they needed something to do, and cards had been Steve's default suggestion. Grace had been skeptical, having played many games in her short 8 years of life, none of which had involved playing-cards, but Steve had managed to dredge up the memory of one of his favorite childhood card games and she quickly took a shine to it, especially when she discovered that she could beat 'Uncle Steve' almost every time they played.

"Oh," said McGarrett, surprised to see that she'd already laid down her cards. "_Oh..._" he said with dread as he saw the final card that was face up- a queen.

Grace grinned at his predicament, a queen was going to be hard to defeat. He laid his cards down one by one till he got to the last, and then he looked up with exaggerated anticipation.

Grace looked from the card to him and back again. "Go ahead," she encouraged impatiently.

He flipped up the card to discover...a four. "Aw...not again." He groaned softly as he hung his head in defeat.

Grace giggled triumphantly as she scooped up the cards she'd won and added them to her ever-growing pile.

"It's because you picked _him_ for your team," she said knowingly, inclining her head toward the still figure in the bed to McGarrett's left.

"What?" asked McGarrett, startled by what, coming from almost anyone else, would've sounded like an accusation.

"Your bad luck." She said brightly by way of ambiguous explanation.

His brows furrowed and he ran a hand through his hair, "Well, yeah, I guess I am. I mean, this wouldn't have happened..." He trailed off, looking down at his dwindling stack of cards, at a loss for how to escape this suddenly awkward conversation.

Grace, however, said nothing further and he was forced to look back at her after a long moment.

He was met with a piercing gaze under a frown of absolute disapproval.

"I _mean_" she pronounced and pointed at him, "_You're_ having bad luck because you're playing with _him_ on your team and he is _really_ unlucky at games!"

"Right!" He said, at once relieved and embarrassed. "Yeah," he gestured at his partner, avoiding the girl's eyes, "this guy's a total jinx. Next game- he's on your side, and then I'll have a chance."

He leaned in to put down his next card, but instead of answering with a card of her own both of the girl's hands darted out and captured his hand, holding it fast.

He looked quickly from his hand to her face which was screwed into the same devastating frown.

"_You_ need to stop feeling bad about Danno." She said with the forceful determination of a child trying to express something terribly important that she didn't fully understand herself. "You're not bad luck, ok? Danno says he's _lucky_ to be on your team! He told me you're the best partner he ever had." Her eyes shone with sincerity, and no amount of guilt or self-loathing could tear him away from the love and forgiveness in that gaze. "So no more being sad! Got it, mister?"

He nodded solemnly, not breaking eye-contact, but not quite ready to trust his voice. He slowly sat back, drawing his hand away, but she gave it a firm tug and narrowed an eye. "Got it?" She repeated.

"Got it." he answered with a tentative smile.

"Good!" She gave him a satisfied grin and released his hand to snatch up her cards with relish.

At that moment, from somewhere to his left, a weakly thrown punch came and connected with his shoulder. He looked over in surprise to see a groggy but conscious Danny looking over at him and pointing an unsteady finger at his daughter.

"Don'"... he coughed slightly, trying to find his voice, "Don't listen... to a word she says." Even though it had been said softly, McGarrett heard the smirk in his partner's voice.

"DANNO!" Grace exclaimed and leaped up, pile of cards scattering over the floor, forgotten. She rushed to her father but was brought up short by a small warning-cough from Steve. She looked at him, nodded sagely, and then made the last step over to Danny's side with the fluid calm of a dignitary. Slowly and carefully she wrapped her arms around the parts of his chest that were bandage-free and nuzzled into him.

"Monkey." He said into her hair as he planted kisses on the top of her head and stiffly but surely began wrapping his arms around her.

Steve's smile started as a half-grin but in moments it consumed his entire face as he gave Danny's good shoulder a light squeeze.

The man who had spent the last several days looking like death warmed-over, but who now sported an armful of elated eight-year-old, looked up at his friend and murmured a warm, "Thanks."

"Welcome back partner," McGarrett just beamed, "We've been waiting for you."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I obviously do not own Hawaii Five-0, or any of the characters, places, or events contained therein. Which, we can all agree, is for the best.

Note: Yay! I knew I loved this fandom! As I mentioned, when the response merits more chapters, I try to oblige, and, since I'm still on holiday (through tomorrow), I was able to oblige rather quickly this time around. I've got at least one more chapter left to write in this oddly linear collection, so if you want to read it, you'll have to let me know. I must say, this chapter is one of my favorites so far because I _love _Steve-and-Danny-banter and I've been _waiting_ (smirk) to try my hand at some. I hope I was able to do it some semblance of justice! Enjoy! Yoroshikuonegaishimasu!

* * *

Waiting

"Did you even _think_ about ringing the doorbell? Yeah, that's the little white button, right next to the _doorknob_ you used to _let yourself in._ You know if I hadn't seen _dozens _of doorbells when I was searching for a _crappy little apartment _to live in I'd start to think that _doorbells _were another amenity of civilization that was forgotten when this god forsaken island was settled. But no! It's just a McGarrett thing. You can't be bothered to maintain a working doorbell, so it's completely inconceivable that somebody else might want you to use theirs for its intend purpose."

McGarrett had his free hand in the air "Fine!" he said and made his way back toward the door, ostensibly to open it and ring the doorbell.

"Stop! Just stop. Get in here," Danny continued with an exaggerated sigh. "It's already a lost cause. You're completely untrainable. Lab rats are more trainable than you. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's the lab rat specialty right there- pressing buttons!"

They'd gone through variations on this conversation every day for the past week right around quitting-time, when Steve faithfully stopped in at his grounded partner's sorry excuse for an apartment. The fact that it was now mid-morning on Saturday seemed to have changed very little, except possibly that Danny was slightly more irascible than usual.

Steve had yet to actually use the doorbell.

Danny had yet to fail to complain about it.

Steve counted this as a good thing.

He shrugged as he came in with a box under one arm, walking over to the table where Danny sat going over some paperwork.

With one arm in a cast, one leg in some brace-like contraption and currently propped up on a corner of the pull-out couch-bed, and a number of bandages still visible in the terrain of the loose t-shirt he was wearing, Danny Williams had certainly looked better, but compared to the ghostly figure hovering between life and death in a hospital bed only a few weeks before, this Danny Williams looked ready to take on the world ...again.

"You're just missing the positive reinforcement." Steve said by way of explanation. "Something like this." He nodded toward his burden.

"Are those donuts?" Danny asked, suddenly more alert as he caught a whiff of whatever was in the box.

"That depends," the other man answered, setting the box down squarely in front of his partner and settling himself down in the nearest chair. "Are you supposed to be allowed to eat donuts yet?" He asked.

Danny threw back the lid and grinned, pulling out a very promising jelly-filled specimen. "Absolutely not!" He proclaimed, and bit into it with gusto.

"Then no," McGarrett said with a small frown. "Those are...pudding cups."

Danny went on enjoying himself, "God, this is so good!" he enthused as he took another savory bite of jelly-filled donut. His fervor was so great it seemed possible that he _was _addressing a deity.

A quick thought, however made him round on McGarrett, "If one on these has pineapple in it you had better take it out of this box right now or, so help me, you're gonna be wearing it all over that," he gestured at McGarrett (with his donut-filled hand, since the other was out of commission) struggling to describe Steve's lack of outfit, "weekend t-shirt that is completely indistinguishable from your work-day t-shirts."

Steve held up a finger and cocked his head, about to launch back into the age-old acceptable-work-clothes argument when he paused and decided for once to pick his battles. This was certainly not one that he was going to win today, not with his partner in such fine form already, and, though Danny didn't yet know it, time was of the essence this morning. Instead he gave the detective a meaningful look, reached into the box, plucked out a fairly innocent looking donut, and placed it carefully on a napkin in front of him.

Danny continued to enjoy his breakfast, simultaneously eyeing the offensive pastry as if it were some sort of poisonous snake sitting on his table, and when he reached into the box for another, he took extra care to select one that had not been touching the pineappled monstrosity.

"Did I tell ya the decision came down-" Danny began, as he took a last bite and licked his lips. "I'm not allowed to have Grace again until I can _drive?"_

Steve just frowned sympathetically, though the answer to that question was, in fact; _several times_. But he couldn't blame the guy for needing to vent this particular frustration, again.

"Yeah," He looked in utter disgust at his bum leg. "Apparently it's for her safety. If something happened and she needed to go the hospital, or high ground, or a _bomb shelter_ I can't drive her, so it isn't safe." Danny looked like he wanted to hit something, but he refrained, continuing into his rant instead. "You'd think Rachel could spare, maybe, _her driver_ for a little while or something. But, no, that's an unreasonable request from a guy who just wants to spend a few hours with his _daughter_ to stave off the life-sucking _monotony_ of being stranded in this pit for an as-yet undetermined number of _eons_."

"But you're doing alright, right?" Steve was trying to sound positive. "Keeping busy?"

"Oh, yeah, sure, I've been 'keeping busy." His partner said mockingly. "I mean, I've cleaned this dump and trashed it again half dozen times." His gesture was one-armed, but no less expansive, and Steve did notice that several of the archaeological layers of human detritus seemed to have vanished.

"I have been sleeping 14 hours a day like some kind of hibernating animal." Having had to wake his partner from a deep sleep on at least one occasion, Steve tended to agree with that analogy, though he wisely kept his amusement to himself.

"I've been eating their vile hospital delivery food." He waved a hand at the small pile of picked-over boxes of unappetizing-looking substances. Steve failed to contain his wince at the sight—'vile' was a generous description.

"I've done more backlogged paperwork than we ever even had cases," He scowled meaningfully at McGarrett, "_in this whole state_." Steve shrugged and gave an uncomfortable smile.

"I've even been trying to talk to Gracie online with this thing," he punched the monitor of a somewhat ancient looking desktop computer, "But according to Chin, her "firewall" is convinced I'm a _sexual predator_ or something." He scowled in disgust and turned toward his the somewhat disused-looking set of weights he kept in one corner of the room. "I've been working the parts of me that I'm allowed to work," he shook his head in disdain, "And I've been 'rehab'ing the parts that I'm allowed to 'rehab'." He turned toward a newer looking piece of equipment in the other corner of the room. Steve's eyes steeled as he recognized it, but Danny, thankfully, didn't notice.

"And remember I told you they were gonna send a PT over here twice a week? Well, yesterday was the first time, and I find out- I got a _dude_! How unlucky can I possibly be! And...I really don't want to say this, but I think he, you know..."

"Who, Javier?" Steve cut in.

"Yeah!" Danny jabbed him with a hand, "What, you know him?" the detective frowned. This seemed very unlikely.

Steve shrugged, "I just overheard him at the nurses' station the other day in the hospital. You're right, though. The kid's really into you. Said something about maybe 'getting lucky.'" Steve trailed off and Danny blanched noticeably, momentarily at a loss for words. Steve took a beat and then grinned broadly, "s a joke, man."

"God, I hate you _so much."_ He mimed choking McGarrett with his good hand, "I was halfway through working out how I was going to make death-by-hospital-spork-to-the-forehead look like an accident."

Steve raised an eyebrow and nodded approvingly.

"Seriously though," Danny said with a sigh, sinking a little further into the table. "I've been doing all this _stuff_, going through the motions, _'keeping busy_,' waiting for something to give...and nothing ever does." Even the hand he was gesturing with seemed ready to give up. "I'm bored out of my mind here, man. You know what I mean?"

He looked up to see that Steve's eyes were distant, unreadable.

"Naw, of course you don't." Danny sighed. "You're the Super SEAL. Bullets and knife wounds mean nothing to you. You bounce right back and keep on going like a freaking energizer bunny." He put an elbow on the table and ran his fingers through his hair.

Then he heard a drag and clunk, and looked up to see that Steve had pulled a chair over and thunked a booted foot down onto it.

Danny was about to protest the abuse of what passed for furniture in his apartment, but then stopped as his partner rolled up his pant leg and began tracing a line through the hair on his calf. Barely noticeable, but distinct when you were really looking, a jagged scar ran along the side of the man's leg and curled up past the knee. It was accompanied by several straighter lines and small circular scars, doubtless the result of some fairly intensive surgery.

Danny looked up at Steve, the question held in his eyes.

"Al-Anbar province, Iraq, 2006. IED." He proceeded with deadly calm. "I was in the hospital for a month, at a rehab center for 3 more." He looked thoughtful, letting his words sink in. "In all that time I didn't see anyone." He said grimly, "Not Dad, not Mary Anne… Cat wasn't even in the picture yet. The remaining members of my team were updated about my status, I found out later. But they were already reassigned. I wasn't told where." He blew out a breath and leaned back, dropping his leg back to the ground. "When I went into the service I didn't understand how it was that so many guys got injured and ended up head cases." He looked hard at Danny. "But after those four months..." He nodded slowly at his partner. "I _really_ did."

Danny sat back uncomfortably. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, blew out a breath, then finally laid a hand on the table. "I'm sorry." was all he could say, "I... I didn't know."

McGarrett spread his hands apart. "You're not _supposed_ to know." He said firmly. "You're Danny Williams. You're a good cop, a great father, and the best partner a guy could ask for_. This,_" he gestured to Danny's general state of patched-together-ness, "is _not _something you're supposed to know."

They exchanged a long look; something like a profound apology and its unconditional acceptance happened completely without words.

"Which is why I'm breaking you out." Steve stood up and pushed the chair back in one quick motion, slamming both hands on the table, startling Danny to no small degree. "We're getting out of this pit- right now!" He extended a hand toward Danny's good one.

Danny blinked for a moment looking from the hand to Steve and back again, trying to determine if the SEAL was serious. "Are you insane?" He demanded.

"Naw, man, come on! It's a gorgeous Saturday out there. Fresh ocean breeze, warm Hawaiian sun- it's exactly what you need!" Steve cuffed him lightly on the shoulder and then proffered the hand once again.

Danny had to admit to himself, just for a moment, that that prospect sounded awfully good, but another aspect of the plan quickly brought itself to his attention, "What I _don't_ need is your maniac driving! I did not survive all of this," he gestured vaguely to himself, "just to die speeding over the edge of some god forsaken jungle cliff."

"No cliffs, no speeding: I swear!" Steve promised, grabbing Danny's hand and hauling him (with remarkable care) to his feet. "Scout's honor!" he said, making a quick hand sign that looked more Vulcan than anything else before snatching the crutch from the wall and handing it over to his partner.

Danny pulled a face, "What kinda scout were you, anyway?" Still, he took up the crutch put it under his good arm, leaning on it experimentally.

Steve just gave him one of those infuriatingly knowing grins but didn't answer. He waited to see that Danny was hobbling steadily before turning to grab meds, donuts, and other amenities and making for the door.

Danny paused to snatch his wallet and put it in his shorts pocket and Steve caught him looking longingly at a short-sleeve button-down on a wire hanger near the door.

"Seriously?" Steve asked with a skeptical look.

"What!" Danny was defensive, "Is it too much to ask that I be allowed to feel human for a few hours today? This''ll just take a sec..." He reached for the shirt over the crutch and was in clear danger of becoming unbalanced when Steve raised a hand.

"Ok, ok!" he said, putting down his small armload and snatching the shirt before his partner could bring himself to accidental harm. In one smooth movement he had Danny's good arm through one shirtsleeve and had draped the other side of the shirt over the shoulder with the sling. "Now are we good?" He asked impatiently, reclaiming his load and opening the door.

It took Danny a moment regain his cool after having just been dressed like an oversized doll, and he was about object but Steve just nodded at the door, "You can mess with it in the car." He said, trying to get his partner moving.

Danny gimped a few steps forward then stopped, looking at the sleeve, then at McGarrett, "This is _inside-out_!" he complained in disbelief.

"_In the car._" Steve repeated, then paused. "It is?" He looked down at it. "Huh!" He was genuinely surprised. "Why'd you hang it up inside-out?" He asked, curiously.

"I _didn't, genius_!" Danny said loudly, struggling to punctuate his words with his hands when one was tied up and the other occupied with the crutch. "You clearly have some kind of _dark side_ power that does weird things to perfectly normal articles of clothing. I'm not even going to ask what happened to the _tie_ that was hanging with this." He finally hobbled over to the door.

Steve gave his best sinister smile as he turned to close the door behind them and noticed the tie in question lying where it had landed on the other side of the room. "That's good," he said with a nod, "because that tie was _never _gonna be part of today's plans."

Danny huffed in disapproval and began to carefully negotiate the several steps between his front door and ground level. Steve watched surreptitiously, and there were a few moments where he wanted to intervene, but he refrained. Hovering would only serve to further annoy and humiliate his friend.

"There is only one reason," began Danny after regaining solid ground, "that I'm leaving the tie alone." He paused, putting a finger up, "A: It _is _Saturday and I am about as off-duty as it is humanly possible to be. And B:" he put up another finger, "I can't tie a tie one-handed and all evidence points to the fact that _you_ have never successfully tied a tie in your entire life." He continued on toward the Camero.

"That was two." Said Steve.

"Two what?"

"Two reasons." he supplied thoughtfully, "actually, possibly three or four, depending."

Danny stopped and fumed silently for a moment as Steve struggled to contain a smirk. Then in an unprecedented move the detective seemed to master his anger and continued along at his labored gait.

"You know I worked a case a few years ago where a guy bludgeoned another guy to death with a crutch." Danny noted conversationally.

"Yeah?" Steve said with a smile. "How'd that go?"

"Well, the investigation was pretty quick." Danny replied. "The death? Apparently that was long and painful."

Steve nodded, "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that."

They finally reached the car and Danny leaned heavily against the passenger side, slightly winded from the exertion.

"This is still insane." He said, leaning his head back and squinting into the sun, surprised at how incredibly good it felt on his face.

"Maybe," Steve conceded. "But good insane. Besides, I've got a surprise waiting for you." He nodded at the car.

"You already gave me the donuts." Danny reminded him sourly.

"Not the donuts. Better than donuts."

"You've got something in here that's better than donuts?" He gazed incredulously at the side of the vehicle.

"Wait for it." Steve looked alarmingly self-satisfied. He gave the hood of the Camero two thumps with his palm.

In flash of pigtails and sparkly barrettes a very familiar face popped out of the open back-seat window.

"DANNO!"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I definitely don't own Hawaii Five-0, or any of the characters, places, or events contained therein. Thank goodness, right?

Note: So um...embarrassed look...here's the thing about not being a real person- I don't consistently exist in the same time and place in this universe. That is to say, from your perspective I've been gone a while. Oops! Gomen ne! But I'm back now with the update that a few of you have been waiting for! Yatta! I could be done here though, I'd rather like to put in just one more chapter. You'll have to let me know if you want one. Also of note- Grace's card-playing inexpertise has clearly been rendered AU (shrugs what can ya do). For Rachel/Danny purposes please assume that this takes place before recent events between them. I hope you enjoy! Yoroshikuonegaishimasu!

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Waiting

"Are you _sure _Danno's alright?" Grace leaned forward and whispered loudly into McGarrett's ear from the back seat.

"Yes, Danno's ok," came the drowsy voice of her father, who was sprawled across the reclined passenger seat with a look of profound contentment on his face. "He's just sleepy..." He stretched slightly, thought better of it, and settled back into the seat.

Grace frowned, clearly unconvinced. "But it's not even nighttime yet..." she intoned, still directing her complaint at Steve.

She was right, of course; it was only late afternoon and the sun was just barely beginning to set as they drove back towards Rachel's estate.

"I know. We just tired him out with all the places we went." McGarrett tried to explain.

Indeed, the activities for Danny's day out had been almost entirely of Grace's design and naturally they had been ambitious. There had been at least three beaches, a local carnival, an aquarium, and several parks. Not to mention the best shave-ice on the island. How they had succeeded in doing so much in one day McGarrett was at a loss to understand.

Grace, seemingly channeling her father, remained doubtful of McGarrett's explanation. "I'm not even tired, and I'm just a kid!" she protested.

McGarrett shook his head again, "Trust me, he's not sick, and he's not hurting," ('_much' _he thought to himself), "he's just...wait, you're not tired?" He risked at glance back at the little girl who had been running, bouncing, and jabbering all over creation for the last 7 hours. He was tired just thinking about how much energy she'd expended. Of course, the combination of wheeling his partner (while sometimes piggybacking Grace as well) over miles of coastline, and being solely responsible for the health and safety of both Williamses had tired him out more than he liked to admit as well. That and he had a headache that had grown from a dull ache to a throbbing pulse over the course of the day.

Grace crossed her arms and shook her head primly, doing a remarkable imitation of Rachel. "Not tired at all!" she declared, and then went back to hovering over her father as much as her seat-belt would allow.

Steve blew out a breath and shook his head carefully with a wondering smile.

At the next stoplight he turned to the pair. "You want to check and make sure he's not sick, right?" he said, looking from the child to her now apparently sleeping father.

She nodded, openly curious now.

"Ok, you do like this." He put his left hand to his forehead. "And like this." He brought his right to rest lightly on Danny's. The detective shifted slightly under the touch and murmured something unintelligible but contented, eliciting a smirk from both of his companions. "And if he feels like he's the same temperature, he's not sick." Steve finished with a shrug. The light had changed again and he drove on.

He flinched slightly when, moments later, a small hand snuck around and planted itself firmly on his forehead. He flicked his gaze over to Grace with a bemused smile. She was stretching awkwardly against her seat-belt to put a hand on each of their foreheads and wore a look of intense concentration on her face.

"Not me, kiddo," he said with a chuckle, gently taking her hand and moving it towards her own forehead. "Check him," he pointed to Danny, "against yourself." He poked her gently on the nose and she wrinkled it before carefully splaying her palm across the top of her face and going nearly cross-eyed in the process. He mussed the top of her hair affectionately and then kept focusing on the road.

Out of the corner of his eye he eventually saw her sit all the way back in her seat, but she remained silent.

"Well?" he asked.

There was a pause, then a tentative question, "Could Danno and I _both _be sick?" asked the girl with quiet, but obvious concern.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked with a frown.

"Well," she said thoughtfully, "We're both colder than you are."

Steve chuckled, even as he frowned slightly to himself, he wouldn't have guessed that he was running a temperature. He shrugged mentally- not much he could do about it at the moment.

"You guys are fine!" he said encouragingly, "Cool is good. I'm just warmer since I...got a little sunburned today."

"Steeeeve!" Grace scolded, clearly horrified, "You made me and Daddy wear sunscreen!"

"And I guess I forgot." he lied sheepishly.

She poked him in the arm. "_You _should be more careful." she commanded.

"I guess you're right." He admitted.

He cast a sideways glance in his partner's direction. Half-lidded eyes glared up at him with alarming clarity.

"What?" He asked with a frown that risked being pegged as "aneurism face".

"Nothing." The older Williams replied, with a look that said the opposite.

Steve just looked back at the road and rubbed his temple.

"We're almost there, Danno!" Grace announced as they turned into the slightly-too-classy neighborhood.

"Oh yes..." the detective sighed and adjusted his seat upwards with a grimace that had nothing to do with physical pain.

"Wanna wait for me monkey?" Danny asked as Grace gathered up her belongings from the back seat. "I gotta go say 'hi' to your mom too."

"Ok!" The little girl was genuinely pleased. As soon as the car was parked in the driveway she hopped out and ran around the back to get her father's crutch.

Steve gave Danny a questioning look.

"I got this." His partner said with confidence... and then took another look at the front door. "Just...," he looked back, "Bail me out after five minutes, alright?"

Steve leaned back with a knowing grin. "You got it, babe."

Grace dutifully helped her father up and hovered patiently at his side till they made it up the walk.

Back in the car Steve blew out a breath and kneaded his forehead, keeping an eye on his partner as the brave man faced his nemesis. He might have stopped Danny, but he had seen Rachel's worry back at the hospital, and he knew it would do them both good if she saw him recovering. There was a gentle hug, some nodding, and, after Grace disappeared inside with the spoils of her day's adventure, an extended conversation that only got more animated as the minutes ticked away. Steve eyed his watch uncomfortably until the five minutes had passed and then got out of the car. He hesitated, not sure if he should retrieve the wheelchair, but decided to let his friend retreat with his dignity intact. He approached quietly but quickly, inserting himself into the conversation with a smile and a deferential nod. "Afternoon, ma'am."

"Commander McGarrett." She turned to him with a smile that definitely didn't reach her eyes. "I want to thank you again for taking care of my daughter. She _has _been missing her time with her father."

"Don't mention it." Steve said with a shake of his head. "Now if you'd excuse us, it's been a long day and I've got to get this guy back to his place before _I_ pass out."

Rachel let out a short laugh. "Between the two of you, you managed to wear out a Navy SEAL. That has the be a first."she said to Danny.

Her ex-husband just gave an uncomfortable smile, nodded and waved, before gripping his crutch and turning to go. "'Night, Rachel."

"Good evening, Daniel, Steve."

Steve strolled slowly alongside his partner in silence until they both heard the crisp click of the door closing behind them. "So," he offered amiably, "That went well."

"'Well?'" Danny gave him a scathing look, "'Well' he says!" His eye-roll was impressive, even by Danny standards. "Did the voyage of the Hindenburg go 'well'? -did Custer's last stand go 'well'?"

Steve kept silent, but Danny didn't go on. "She's just been worried about you, right?" he asked peaceably. "She's got a right to worry, doesn't she?"

Danny stopped, tired eyes burning, and McGarrett knew he'd crossed a line somewhere, "No, Steven, she does NOT." he said in a low, angry voice that bespoke unthinkable violence, "She HAD the right to worry. In fact, she worried too much and she hated it. Then she DIVORCED me so that she wouldn't HAVE to worry any more. She does NOT have the right to worry any longer."

Steve looked down. "I'm sorry man, I wasn't think-"

"I don't want to talk about it." Danny cut him off, following up with a sigh that seemed to drain the ire out of him.

McGarrett gave a grateful half-smile and opened the passenger door for his partner, extending a hand to receive Danny's crutch.

Danny stopped short. "What is _this_?" He pulled a large stuffed monkey in several hues of atrocious neon from his seat. "Did she forget to take it with her?" His quick glance back at the house was filled with dread at the prospect of going back to return it.

"It's yours." McGarrett stated with a slightly mean smile, taking the stuffed animal and gesturing for Danny to get seated. "Don't you remember? She won it for you."

Danny slowly climbed into the car, "Riiight." he said, obviously not remembering as clearly as he ought.

Steve placed the gaudy creature in his partner's lap before shutting the door, stowing the crutch, and hopping into the driver's side.

Danny was still giving the thing a suspicious look.

"Water gun game." Steve supplied, starting the car and rolling back into the street. "You were waiting in the shade, catching a nap. Only took her four tries. She's a surprisingly good shot for an 8 year old. You been taking her to the range?"

"I have NOT, you psychopath. It must run in the family-"

Steve put a hand up in acknowledgment as he pulled into traffic and made a face that said "obviously" with some sarcasm, but Danny was not finished.

"-More importantly," his index finger pierced the air in the air to punctuate his argument, "I'm about 90 percent sure you've gotta win that game at least_ five_ times to get this kinda prize." He turned the full power of his glare on his partner. "_What_ did you do?"

Guilt blossomed on McGarrett's face, "Ok, in my defense, you know the game was rigged." He attempted.

"It's a carnival game." Danny said flatly. "They're _all_ rigged."

"Yeah, but her favorite spot-"

"Number eight-" Danny interjected.

"Gun number eight, yeah: its water pressure was way lower than the others. It could barely even reach the target, let alone with any force."

Danny kept on glaring. "So what did you do."

"I simply...pointed out that fact to the carny running the game."

"Oh that's it?" Danny asked incredulously.

Steve nodded.

"You just-" Danny gestured with his good hand, "pointed it out."

Steve nodded more deeply.

"And he just... gave her the prize out of the goodness of his heart?"

Steve nodded again, "...more or less!"

"More or less." Now Danny nodded, suspicions obviously confirmed. "More or less." He stopped. "Ok, let's try this again: With _what_ did you point out to some bored teenager that my daughter's water-gun wasn't functioning properly?"

McGarrett paused. "I may have had to show him my badge." He conceded.

"Your badge?" Danny's eyebrows arched. "Just your badge?"

"...and my gun." Steve added quietly.

Danny smacked the the dashboard in frustration.

"...not necessarily in that order," Steve finished.

Danny took a breath, clearly gearing up for a full-force rant. "You. Are. Unbelievable!" He began. "How do you not understand that 'full means and immunity' does NOT authorize you to threaten innocent members of the public into fulfilling your every whim?"

"Whim? really?" Steve muttered under his breath, but Danny picked up on it-

"Yes, 'whim'. How else would you describe the acquisition of this monstrosity?" He held the monkey up accusingly.

"Hey, you weren't there man- she was bound and _determined_ to win that thing, and it just wasn't going to happen. I mean, we'd probably still be at that booth right now if I hadn't done something."

"Right, so instead of learning an important life lesson about carnival games being worthless, money-sucking black-holes, my daughter now thinks that she can waltz up and score the biggest prize in the booth with her mad marksmanship skills in two seconds flat!" He jabbed Steve in the shoulder. "In what universe was that a good plan!"

Steve just looked away as he made a left turn, glad that his partner couldn't see the smile playing at the edge of his lips.

"And-" Danny's hand went up again, "_And_- you know what the best part is? Huh?" He waited for Steve to shake his head. "Now I'm left with two options. A- I get to see the disappointment in my adorable, innocent daughter's eyes when she discovers that she is not the champion and master of 'water-gun penguin racers'. Or B- I somehow manage to avoid taking her near a carnival for the next twenty-some years 'til the memory of her victory this afternoon finally fades." He paused then added, "Or C- I perpetuate your deception by coercing carnies myself, until some day I threaten the wrong drug-kingpin's punk teenager and get offed for a stupid stuffed monkey!"

McGarrett was holding up three fingers, "Uh, Danny, that was..."

"Really, Steven? _Really_?" Danny's eyes threatened violence.

Steve let his comment die.

"So those are my options, now, thank you. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Steve pointed at his own chest. "I can talk now?" He asked.

Danny narrowed his eyes.

Steve put a hand up defensively. "Ok." he said, and took a breath before beginning. "As you know, your daughter can be a pretty persuasive young lady."

Danny glared but did not contradict him.

"She told me- in confidence, so you'd better not repeat this- she said that she HAD to get the monkey...because you need something to hug when you're stuck home sick and can't hug your real monkey." Steve looked down awkwardly.

Danny was silent.

"I'm assuming by 'real monkey' she meant herself." Steve ventured after a moment.

Danny thwacked him across the arm with the stuffed animal.

Then he sat quietly, looking at it, hideous colors and all. "She said that, huh?" He said looking over at Steve, his voice had taken on the gentle tone he always used when talking about his daughter.

McGarrett nodded firmly.

Another moment passed in silence.

"It can be hard to disappoint her..." Danny conceded.

"Uh huh." Steve gave him a long, knowing look before focusing back on the road.

Then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Danny was carefully positioning the stuffed toy between his injured arm and his chest. Satisfied after a few adjustments, he nodded, "It does make a pretty good cushion for this arm." He stated approvingly.

Steve nodded too.

Danny adjusted his seat back and settled in. It was still a ways to his apartment and, while neither of them was going to mention it, his own rant had cost him the last of his energy reserves.

"You've got a really special little girl, Danno." Steve said quietly.

"I really do." Danny said tiredly, adjusting his 'cushion' in a way that looked much more like a hug than he probably intended.

Steve smiled, thinking his partner had already fallen asleep.

But then barely audibly- "She's worth it, you know."

Steve looked over.

"All of this." Danny's lazy gesture encompassed the whole of the island in one vague sweep.

"And all of this." His hand indicated his own patched-together state, "...she's worth it." His voice trailed off into slumber.

Steve gave his partner a long thoughtful look. "I know." He said simply.

And he did.


End file.
